Unnatural
by Miz Thang
Summary: post Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. Spillyria.
1. Personality Disorder

**Title: Unnatural 1/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**Notes: The first three chapters are short, mainly because in the beginning it had been a series.**

**Unnatural**

**Chapter One: Personality Disorder**

She knew who she was. She was the great Illyria, God-king of all she desired. Except, she wasn't. Not anymore.

Not with the vile humans that crawled around the earth of this time as if ants. Not with their failure to recognize her greatness. Not with many of them hunting down her subjects, the demons that would serve her, and killing them off. One by one until there'd be no more left.

Not with this new world she didn't understand and could never hope to conquer with their rules, and customs. They were a different people from the ones that lived in her time, evolved to a point of arrogance and insolence. Without her army, she could never hope to defeat them.

Not with these walls that always surrounded her, making her feel as if she were suffocating. Not with her Qwa'ha Xhan dead. And not with the beings she was forced to seek companionship with treating her as though she were nothing more than an insect they could squash.

What made it the most terrible? That she had the shell's memories running rampant in her mind. She desperately wished she hadn't accompanied Wesley to the wizard's house, and that he hadn't broken the trinket that unlocked all she saw and knew.

And at this moment? At this moment she wanted to destroy and/or rule the world., but save the nice taco shop a few blocks away, because of that time she went with Gunn; they'd done everything she'd asked and even put extra sour cream on the side.

Except she wasn't fond of this sustenance humans ate called tacos. She'd never been anywhere with Gunn. And she had no idea what this thing called sour cream was or what its entire purpose was.

She didn't know who she was. She couldn't tell if she was the sweet quantum physicist that couldn't help being nice to Spike, even if he hated Angel and she was pretty sure he was flirting with her only to forget about Buffy.

Or maybe she was the battle warrior woman. The demon that spared no being mercy and cared of no other but herself. That had a high opinion of herself and her worth compared to the others around her. Held the opinion that she could rule. And that Spike was the ideal pet.

Perhaps she was neither, or was she both? Was she the sniveling sensitive human that had a capacity for weaker emotions such as love, kindness, grief and affection? Or was she what she felt like? Cold-hearted, uncaring.

Wesley was discomforted by her presence. With her ability to become her shell. He tried to pretend he was only fascinated by her history, her change. But she only made him feel pain. Heartache. Her existence made him realize what he'd lost, wished he had back. Or that he could be reunited with it. He didn't want her pretending to be the human that once inhabited the body. It revealed painful memories. Memories that could break his already fragile human mind.

Angel ignored her greatness. Her ability. Who she was. He treated her in the same manner as he treated Spike, and at times, his other followers. He ignored that, if she so desired, she could obliterate him, no matter her decrease in power. Sometimes she wondered if he though himself invincible, or if he forgot how insignificant everything he did was. Didn't realize the unimportance of the shell she now occupied.

Lorne ignored her presence. She did not understand why. He confuse her a great deal and she preferred to ignore him as well. Gunn reeked of guilt. Guilt of letting her tomb into the country, into the building. Of indirectly putting the shell in danger. It was bothersome.

Spike did not compare her to the shell. It could be that he had not been acquainted with the shell for a long enough period of time for a great deal of attachment, but she wanted to believe that he'd adjusted to her presence. That he accepted it as a part of life.

She left Wesley's office without warning, effectively ending their conversation, and sought out Spike. She found him where she expected him. In the room of fighting.

"Will you fight me?" she questioned.

He shrugged and they started.

It was...refreshing to be around Spike. To that, both sides of her agreed. And she was grateful for that tiny bit of certainty. It gave her purpose and a new direction.

She had most certainly wasted her precious energies on Wesley. He was a lost cause, surrendered to the memory of the shell. When the time came and he was able to take back what was rightly hers, she'd rule. And, if the attachment grew any larger, with Spike at her side.


	2. Passion

**Title: Unnatural 2/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**Notes: The first three chapters are short, mainly because in the beginning it had been a series.**

**Chapter Two: Passion**

It wasn't right to feel this way, to feel this…heat whenever she and Spike were alone. When they trained, enjoying the sensation of hitting each other. It wasn't an unnatural thing; it wasn't right. She was above feelings. She was Illyria, great god king of the primordium. She didn't have feelings, or become nervous at the presence of a mere **half-breed**.

And she wanted to pound him into the ground for it. This sensation that had her dream of him at nights…it was what the shell felt for Wesley before she was destroyed. It was a weakness. A weakness that drove Wesley into his current depression. A weakness she would not let herself fall into; she would destroy someone first.

Spike got in a good hit, punching her in the face and grinning at her as she reeled back in shock. It was a rare occurrence, and he took great pleasure in it.

"You hit me."

"I think we had this conversation already," Spike replied. "Back to the hitting…"

"No creature has hit me once and lived; you have hit me twice."

"Not really like others." He answered, and then he grinned. "Might've started when I was younger."

Illyria narrowed her eyes and she began to circle him, stopping when she reached a startling conclusion.

"You lust after me."

"On what planet?"

"This one. You hide it well, but I can read it in your eyes at this moment. I can sense it in your body." She stepped back.

"Look, I don't know what you're testing out, or if you're talking to ferns again, but that's not possible. I have no desire to be near you unless it involves hitting. Like we were doing before." Spike replied.

She narrowed her eyes, stepping forward once again. She leaned forward boldly, pressing her lips to his as she saw in the shell's memories. Instantly, she felt as if she were on fire. As if she could explode.

Oddly she never wanted to let go. Of this moment. Of Spike. He was her mate. Her destined mate and she would have him. Yes, the attachment had grown to extreme levels.

Spike, on the other hand, had thoughts bordering on asking himself what the hell was he doing. This was Illyria, the god king that, not three minutes ago, had kicked his ass across the room.

There was a connection forming deep under the surface. A connection that on a God King and her chosen mate could share.

"You elicit passion and fire inside me," Illyria stated when she caught her breath. "You make me…breathless and I get a…fluttering in my stomach."

Spike looked at her. "What are you getting at?"

"I enjoy this feeling," The god king stated before leaning forward to kiss him again. The feel that passion once more.


	3. Closer

**Title: Unnatural 3/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**Notes: The first three chapters are short, mainly because in the beginning it had been a series.**

**Chapter Three: Closer**

If there was anything to call this setup, it would be weird, peculiar.

For one, it was Illyria, god king of the primordium, shaper of things. Once the owner of all she desired.

Two, it was Spike, the second vampire with a soul that seemed to have a thing with falling in love with females that could kick his ass. Not that he was in love with Illyria…

The old him, if there was such a thing, would've found serious fun in her world. And he guessed she wasn't surprised. All her talk about her old mate and how he'd loved his life. His life as her pet. Only Spike wasn't her pet…

Instinctively, and completely out of nowhere, he felt better, a bit more important-it **is** an ego boost that a god king wants you as her pet-with that knowledge. Not that he wanted to be her pet. Give her advice, since she had no Qwa'ha Xhan, be there, by her side, through everything.

Didn't seem like he really had any choice in the matter. Not when they seemed to not be able to control themselves when they were alone together.

_Buggering passion._

You'd think a century-plus old vampire and a millennium-old god king could keep their hand to themselves.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, they couldn't. Not that they were really doing anything, besides playing Crash Bandicoot. She'd found him playing one day and instantly became fascinated with its addictiveness.

He had fun watching her play, seeing her look of total concentration as she attempted to stay away from the "insufferable creatures that would not retreat" which were, in short, penguins.

"I do not understand," she murmured, moving instinctively as she made a character slide across the ice.

"This system has no point, gives no prize, holds no power. And yet, I am compelled to play on."

"Great thing about some things, Blue. They make no sense." Spike replied, cursing at game over.

"Yes. I have noticed. Many things make no sense." Illyria began, standing and pacing the room. "I do not understand how this began. I do not understand you. I do not understand what I am doing. I feel human. I feel all these things and I can't control them." She turned to look at him. "What should I do?"

"Personally, I think you should let go for a bit. Stuff the overly done 'I am a god king, fear me' into a closet and have this thing we like to do these days called fun."

"Fun?" she echoed. She seemed to think about it. And then she made the obvious decision. She'd have this thing called fun, with Spike. "What must I do?"

"Guess you could go with the blue hair and eyes, but the leather." Spike paused. "Not that it's a bad thing."

_Far from it. _

"Just might be a…better thing if you did without the dominatrix outfit."


	4. Skin On Skin

**Title: Unnatural 4/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**A/N: **Oh my God, is this an update? Yes, I believe it may very well be an update.

**Chapter Four: Skin on Skin**

Illyria had dressed in clothing she had strangely hoped Spike would approve of. Clothes that, from the shell's memories, the shell had only dreamed of wearing. They had no importance to her. And, so, she had no problems dressing in them.

He had stared at her for what had seemed like hours no end; she almost felt the instinct to **fidget**. She did not fidget. This amazingly went away as he complimented her on her choice of clothing.

She had followed him to the dark table in the corner he had chosen and watched as lustful women propositioned him and he turned them down to sit with her and drink beer. Every time a woman walked over, this dark feeling curled up in her gut and she automatically wanted to bash their faces in.

"We should dance." She said suddenly. Spike looked at her in a perfect mix of surprise and confusion as she stood and practically yanked him onto his feet. She thought it was kind of cute.

He didn't pull away from her nevertheless, allowing her to lead him onto the dance floor. She stood face to face with him, allowing him to guide her body to the beat of the music. She found something strangely powerful in the way he was able to make her hips move with the music.

She stepped closer to him, and they were pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest…and the room had gotten decidedly warmer. She stared him in the eyes. "I like this."

She watched him curiously as his face clouded over with an unreadable expression. Maybe it was enjoyment, anger or lust. She couldn't be sure. Well, she wasn't until he kissed her.

Her arm wound around his neck and she let no indication that she had planned on releasing him in the near future. Her tongue battled his for dominance and they weren't even swaying anymore.

Illyria was tumbling. She was free falling as she continued this wild rendezvous with Spike. As she continued to have these romantic feelings and notions, ideas that they could be together, could rule the world together. Him and her. And she liked the idea so much for no reason. She wanted it to happen. She needed to happen. She would do everything to insure it did happen for herself and her mate.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss and his blues eyes were on her cold ones. "My place, then?"

She almost smiled.

-

There was something that could be said about the fact that she found it much more interesting and enjoyable that Spike was hovering above her in his bed, kissing her, when comparing it to fighting in the training room.

When she had agreed to this night with Spike, she had not intended on a sexual exploration that involved her allowing him being dominant because it felt better. She had not actually expected anything out of this night at all…

She slid her eyes shut in ecstasy. She was even unable to form words in her mind to describe the feelings and sensations that came from finally being able to consummate their relationship. She was determined to not let him go.

Hours later, she had remained awake, thinking back on the fact that she had given into her desires and lowered herself…only she didn't feel as if she had lowered herself at all. She sat up, looking down at the sleeping figure beside her.

Her hand rose, moving to slide over perfect pale flesh. She felt the muscles and contours, thought of how they had felt in the throes of passion. He was hers. Her pale perfection.

It barely occurred to her as she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder that she was falling deep into something she wouldn't be able to get away from her. It still didn't occur to her as she trialed them up to his lips that under normal circumstances, foreplay wouldn't have crossed her mind.

She lost herself in the kiss that slowly woke Spike, pulling him from the world of dreams he'd been. She straddled his hips, deepening the kiss as he responded, her hand sliding lower as lust flared within her own self.

She almost found unmistakable pleasure in Spike reversing their positions, her hand reaching it's destination.

She still hadn't realized that she had lost. She'd lost this battle. Surrendered herself to these emotions that had her craving Spike. Surrendered to the advantages to this. To having Spike as her…mate. She'd surrendered herself. Not only herself, all of her. Her dignity, her power, and her stance on issues…she'd given it all up in seconds, just to be skin on skin in between pieces of cloth with a half-breed. All to feel pleasure that distracted her from thoughts of returning this world to what it had once been.


	5. All About The Blood

**Title: Unnatural 5/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**A/N:** No, you are not dreaming. It's another update. I think we're about three chapters away from a finish. Plus, thanks so much for the reviews. They make me smile like it's Christmas. Spike'sSavior, that will soon come, promise. And Imzadi, very much in wonderment with you... Anyway, on with the chapter.

**Chapter Five: All About The Blood**

Illyria was a time bomb waiting to happen. Wesley had managed to conclude that Illyria's power couldn't be contained within Fred's body. The only option was to funnel it somewhere, to somehow extract so of her power and send it away.

Illyria had posed a really good question. Away where?

Illyria didn't want to send it away. The end of the world meant nothing to her; it would be a great gift to rid the universe of this planet. Except Spike cared. And for some strangely odd reason, she cared about what Spike cared about. So, she would give it up.

But under no circumstances would she funnel it 'somewhere,' send it into the ether. She would not just release it into the world without any certainty on how she could retrieve it in the future.

As they stood in Angel's office, contemplating on what she would do, she decided. It was fairly obvious, fool proof as her nights in Spike's bed told her. "I desire you give it to Spike."

The looks had been of surprise. Including Spike. No one would expect, no matter how suspiciously close these two were being as of late, that Illyria would throw out that option. A doable option.

"What?" Angel choked out. He prayed to whoever would listen that he'd heard Illyria wrong.

"Give it to Spike. If I cannot remain at my true self, and I must reduce my power, I will put it where I trust it most. That is in Spike." Illyria answered.

Her decision was final. She almost hummed as she thought of her plan moving along.

-

Illyria had watched him, hours after the transfusion. She knew he now had her power. She knew his strength was the only thing that rivaled hers. She knew that he was her true mate now. She did not understand why it shocked him so much.

"I don't understand." She went ahead and said. "You have more power than ever before."

"Not in it for the power anymore, Illyria."

"You lie." She sat up straighter, looking him head-on. "You say you don't but you know the truth in your heart. You like power. You like that **I** have power. Don't pretend that it doesn't affect you. I can see that it does. Allow it to."

She was poisoning him. His mind set. She had already started when she picked him. Her desire for world domination was swirling in his head and she knew that when the time came he would side with her and rule beside her. It was only a matter of time.

-

She was falling. I was not sensible, but it was true. She was falling in love with Spike, slowly but surely. She had thought that it was only she leaking into Spike, but he himself was tainting her. And she couldn't discontinue it. Her feelings now identified with the shell's for Wesley and…it made her smile to think of it, to think of anything associated with Spike.

_I have allowed myself to become domesticated_, she thought in disgust as she stood before the microwave, watching his blood for him while he bought a pack of cigarettes. He had taken up smoking again.

_Blood. The last thing keeping us from truly being one. _

Her thoughts centered on the mug spinning around on the table inside the electronic. Her mind was already made up and she reached inside, placing the scalding cup on the counter. She pulled out a dagger with her right hand and slashed the palm of her left. She closed her palm over the mug, watching the drip of her blood. Several drops later, the cut closed. She tucked the dagger back in and rid herself of the remaining blood on her palm.

Just as she closed the microwave door, the front door closed and she turned to face Spike, holding his mug. "It finished while you were still out. I thought it better to let it cool."

-

She had devised a plan to complete the exchange of blood. It was far-fetched, but she had no other answer to moving forward in her plans. One day, during training, she hit him. It was hard enough that, had he not been her equivalent, he'd have flown back into the wall and it would have caused internal bleeding. But, as he was her equal, it only knocked him back a few steps and caused a minor trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

He dabbed at it and then looked at her. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"I'm…sorry." Even as she said this, moved towards him. As if in a trance, she reached forward, touching the corner of is mouth and taking some of his blood. Her eyes reached his and never wavered as she put her finger in her mouth, tasting it, completing her ritual.

Needless to say, not a lot of training was done after that.

-

It put Angel on edge. Which made it a good old time for Spike. The fact that Spike was retaining Illyria power, that his strength was nearly as encompassing as the god king's stuck a wedge farther up his ass. Well, it did in Spike's opinion.

Illyria also found it enjoyable. The unease that Angel reeked of brought tiny smiles to her face as she saw it did her Spike. She did not know when he became so. Her Spike. She just gave him that title mentally once she had fornicated with him, and then allowed him her power, her blood also.

"Kinda fun, you know," he commented, coming behind her from nowhere.

"What?" she questioned, calmly turning to face him.

"The time-wonky thing. Had a conversation with Angel. Got bored, left."

"You use what I gave you for frivolous things?" she asked as they began their walk. It led them into the lobby and towards the elevator.

"Well, not completely frivolous." Spike argued. He pressed the button. "What's on the agenda, Blue?"

She stepped on after him, about to answer when she noticed how he stayed out of her reach. She narrowed her eyes in slight suspicion and wondered what Angel had said to him.

If he had set back her plans, she would destroy him.


	6. Buffy

**Title: Unnatural 6/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**Author's Note:** I think that moment you've been looking for is here. Spike'sSavior, we'll find out by the eighth (and last) chapter what happens. Imzadi, I knew from the moment that I wrote it that I'd change the scene to fit Illyria's plans. I don't think I'll be destroying the world. At least, I don't know. Might be an open-ended thing. Like a decide for yourself. The Wes thing? Well, that's what the words that come after this are for, so, read on. :D

**Chapter Six: Buffy**

Angel had set back her plans. This much was obvious to her. She had decided to not let it get to her, though. There were worst things.

Such as the fact that Spike was avoiding her. And it wasn't unintentional. He knew he was doing it. He could be talking to Angel one moment, and then the second Illyria entered the office, he'd leave. Of course, she'd forget Angel and follow him, but it still left Angel frowning.

He wasn't so lucky in his most recent attempt to avoid her. She stepped on the elevator a milli-second after him and blocked his way out as the doors slid closed behind her. "You are avoiding me. Why?"

"Let's just say I've come to my senses, Blue. This is one of the worst ideas in my love life history."

She stared at him for a long moment. Then she reached and pressed a button. The elevator jerked to a stop in between floors. She had seen Wesley do it numerous times, in order to set rules for any intercourse on the subject of the shell.

"Our feelings **are** mutual?" she asked, calling to him with the precious blood bond she'd started, had increased without him knowing of her doing so.

Spike tried to not look at her. "Really doesn't matter." This was a bad idea. Getting romantically involved with Illyria would have to be the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Second only to falling in love with Buffy. And that was another clue.

"I roam this building of no real importance, as it crawls with beings I'd rather see **dead** than stand in their stench for longer than I have to. Beings too filthy to even kneel before my greatness. This shell it too **weak** for my greatness. For reasons I now believe **moronic**, I gave some of this greatness to **you**. I…" she flailed for the words to explain in her rant. "I have **feelings** for you. Feelings which I cannot control. Feelings that are ruining, **staining**, me. I cannot rule this world. And I cannot kill everything that defies me. I cannot get all my heart's desires-"

She broke off and seemed to calm down in that instant. "I will not just let you go. We are bound; you are my mate."

"What are you going to do then?" he asked, waiting for her to answer. He knew that she meant every word she said. He could see it. She didn't have enough tact for anything else. Except, especially at this exact moment, he wished she did have tact. Basketfuls, in fact.

And she knew that he knew that. She stepped into his personal space. Unfortunately for him, there was nowhere to take a step back to, as the wall of the elevator told him when he backed into it.

"Illyria-"

"No." She took another step and he was really trapped. "I will kiss you now." She pressed her lips against his.

He tried to resist, he really did, but instead found himself responding. Funny how even though they paid each other no mind for weeks, they now had this chemistry, this passion that surrounded them.

They were still there minutes later when people began banging on the elevator roof, trying to see if anyone was inside…only they were still kissing at that point.

-

It was only a matter of time. Wesley and Angel were both extremely suspicious of them after Illyria had decided to hold up the elevator. Once Spike's brain had started working again, he'd personally wanted to kill her for that stunt…until later at his apartment. Then he kind of lost all train of thought that he had once had going.

Miraculously, no one found out then. About Illyria and Spike. No, Spike and Illyria continued their secret affair that he was still trying to name, and maybe even still trying to find a way out of before he broke his own heart. No one found out until days later when Illyria pinned him after a match. That was a weird moment in itself, what with Spike being just as super-charged as Illyria.

She lowered her face to Spike's and their accidental audience was surprised to find out for a kiss. At the time, the dark vampire and the human were holding a conversation regarding the Old One and her new found closeness to Spike when they saw this. And that Spike was responding to it passionately; in fact, he switched their positions in an attempt to pin her and take it further.

It was kind of morbid and voyeuristic for Angel and Wesley. Not to say anything, interrupt, leave. They stood there, watching as the two-dare them think it, let alone say it-**god kings**, made out on the floor…or maybe they had been making out, because from the way they were moving, both man and vampire were pretty sure it had escalated to sex.

And Angel wanted to march out there and tell Spike that a relationship with Illyria, the one person that Angel wanted to kill these days, was not something to end in goodness. Hell, fucking her on the spic and span training room floor was also another dumb idea as far as Angel was concerned.

"I believe we now understand the extent of their…closeness." Wesley said, somewhat stiffly. It had occurred to him to remain neutral. Unfeeling and neutral was good. It was pure nonchalance on his part that would let the confrontation that would undoubtedly happen go over more smoothly.

Angel let out a breath. "Understatement of the year, Wes."

-

Wesley and Angel had decided to wait for them outside, as much as they both wanted to interrupt, for their own reasons. Angel because he'd most likely try to kill one, or both. Wesley because he wanted to remain calm, cool, and level-headed in this situation, already thinking Angel wouldn't be.

Spike already had a bad feeling the moment he saw them, and thought that it very accurately had to do with him and Illyria.

"We need to talk." Angel said firmly, and that confirmed it for the bleached blond. He and Wesley knew. How they knew wasn't all that important, all he wanted was to avoid this entirely.

"No, we don't. You just think we do." Spike retorted.

"Your…relationship…is not healthy, Spike. Illyria-" Wesley started, attempting to be the voice of reason.

"Do not presume you can describe me, or what my intentions may be. Our time of being confidantes has long past," Illyria said, voice laced in anger. He was attempting to ruin all her hard work for the weeks, months that she had spent secretly courting Spike. "You have lost all privileges you were once awarded."

"I don't care what brought it on. I just think it needs to stop." Angel said, reasserting a take charge attitude in this situation.

"You know what I think, Angel?" Spike said. "I think that the fact that I'm not as deranged as you are and that I can move on from Buffy works your nerves."

"Really?" A new voice said, female. Everyone turned to face the new comer, a stunned Gunn and Lorne on each side. "Now I just feel hurt."

She wore a grin to match her tone of voice and surprise was written clear across Angel and Spike's faces. There was only one word that could fall from Spike's lips at the sight of this new development, and Illyria, instantly hated it.

"Buffy."


	7. Jealousy

**Title: Unnatural 7/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**Author's Note:** Imzadi and Spike'sSavior, Buffy's going to serve her purpose. It'll be over by the end of the chapter. We're getting down to the wire. Only one more chapter to go after this one.

**Chapter Seven: Jealousy**

"Buffy."

No one would have expected this. After Andrew had passed along the message that Buffy didn't trust Angel at Wolfram and Hart, it had been assumed that they hade no allies outside. And, therefore, everyone naturally assumed that the petite blonde slayer would never come to Los Angeles. Not unless she planned on taking Angel out.

And yet there Buffy was with Lorne at her right and Gunn at her left. The look on their faces had been enough for the others to realize two things. The first was that they had heard most of the confrontation about Spike and Illyria's relationship. The second was that it had occurred to them that it would've been better to let Buffy "browse" Angel's office.

Illyria was steaming in a new emotion as she glanced from Spike to the blonde he'd called Buffy, and then back to Spike. A feeling she had never had a need for, nor had she ever felt it. But, she'd seen it in others and even now, it disgusted her.

"In the flesh. Is this going to stay uncomfortable, or am I going to get hugs?"

Jealousy.

Angel hugged Buffy, a lover's embrace. Their lives would forever be entwined, even if they were never together romantically. And then, Spike hugged her. And she'd held on. Illyria had a desire to punch the wall beside her.

"Andrew didn't tell me, you know. He actually tried to stop me from coming." Buffy said, smiling at Spike.

"How'd that work out for him?" Spike asked in amusement.

"I'm pretty sure Dawn let him out of the closet by now."

They laughed. Laughed as if they were old friends without a single problem between them. She had followed alone, stiff, as they traveled through the halls to Angel's suite of an office and sat around the conference room.

Spike sat next to Buffy.

She had irrational thoughts the entire time. Thoughts of obliterating the blonde, sending her back to her origins, her kingdom. She did not like the way Her Spike looked at her…a definite redundancy to every syllable he had spit out seconds before his knowledge of her presence.

And Illyria was jealous.

"I guess I should explain myself. Starting with why I'm not flying off the walls right now." Buffy started. "I knew."

"Wait-" Angel started. "You knew?"

"That Spike was back. Nineteen days, right? I figured there was a reason he didn't come looking for me, to tell me. So, I let it go. No hard feelings. I understand."

She radiated love. Love, for Illyria's property. Even with her bravado earlier, it pained her that he found a relationship with anyone else, especially with her initial impression of Illyria. She didn't like the competition, and she was out to ruin it. Ruin the bond Illyria had diligently formed.

Buffy turned to Angel. "I told Andrew because; well, because Giles has this whole thing. He doesn't care about what you're trying to do here. All he sees is that you're here, and he doesn't trust you. I don't think he trusted you much before this. So, **I** told Andrew that I didn't trust you."

"That explains a lot." Wesley added, staying clear away from any thoughts of Illyria and the clearly seen rage that covered her face as the Old One glared at Buffy with malicious intent; jealousy. _She's not Fred. She's only a shell. _He tuned back into the conversation. _She's not Fred. She's not Fred…_

"Yeah. I'm supposed to be doing re con. All I've managed so far is a trip through Beverly Hills. I figure I might as well get something extra out of this trip. Plus, Dawn made me promise to get a few extra outfits out of it for her." Buffy said, managing to elicit laughs from half the people at the table. As if for the first time, she pretended to had just noticed Illyria. "Who's she?"

Illyria felt hot. Like fire, like molten rock from a volcanic explosion…or maybe she was the volcano about to erupt. She didn't wait for an answer to the question. Her anger had smoldered to the point where she couldn't take it anymore. She stalked out of the room, then, as Spike and the others attempted to explain her existence.

-

She walked through the halls four a few hours, not comprehending why, if she and Spike were now intimate, he could not devote himself to her and forget his past; realize the greatness that lied in his future, with her.

She found herself at Lorne's office and decided she would enter. He was on the phone, but she paid it no mind. Her need for punishing whoever let the vile little human near Her Spike was too strong for niceties such as that.

"You brought her here." She accused.

"Uh…" Lorne looked at her for a moment and then spoke into the phone. "I'll call you back. I have a teed off Old One to deal with." He hung up the phone and looked at Illyria questioningly. "What's that?"

"The petite human-**Buffy**. You led her to Spike." She dared not admit him as hers in front of the green demon.

"No, Blueberry, I led her to Angel. You and Spike just happened to be there-and what's the whole thing with you two-"

"My property is none of your concern." Illyria cut him off, her eyes cold. "I want her gone." She demanded as if she were some ruler.

"I get it now." Lorne replied. "You're jealous."

"I do not get jealous. Jealousy is a vile-"

"Weakness?" Lorne interrupted her this time, standing and coming around his desk. "You have feelings for Spike, that you don't want, and you thought it was mutual. Then the true love of his life rolls into town and you're old news." He moved to pass her. "Sorry, Bluebird, but love goes that way sometimes."

Illyria followed him with her eyes, rage once again filling her entire being. She grabbed him by his collar, suspending him in the air so that his feet dangled.

"Love? I do not know **love**. I do not **feel** love. Not even for one as worthy as Spike. I am above it. And if you will not right your wrong, I will do so for you. These ways are not of my own, and I will **not** adapt to them. Mark my words, demon clown, I **will** rule once more, and not even your leader will be able to stop me."

She let go of him, watching for a moment, almost mesmerized as he lied on the floor, choking for breath. She then turned and left the office, quickly walking down the hallway. Illyria almost smiled as she practically hurried down the stairs, her destination the lobby of Wolfram and Hart.

Harmony was sitting at her desk and stood up in alarm as a blue, swirling portal appeared in the center of the lobby at the wave of the Old One's had. She watched as Illyria walked towards it calmly, meanwhile employees panicked. She grabbed the intercom. "Angel, Illyria just went through a portal to somewhere!"

By the time Angel registered, and left his office with Buffy and Spike at his back, the portal was already closing. They were too late. Were they alarmed? Yes, and with good reason.

-

Illyria stepped through the other end and looked around. She was somewhere she had not been before, in a different country. She heard the blonde's voice before she saw her and instantly knew she had done as she had desired. She had traveled back in time to correct things.

"No, Dawn. Just, keep Giles busy until I'm on the first flight out tonight. Yes, I promise there will be clothing in it for you. I have to go. No, no vamps or demons, but I'd like to be prepared if one came along."

"I should honor your request," Illyria said, stepping out of the shadows and facing off against the slayer.

"Dawn? Gotta go." Buffy hung up. "So…who sent you? The Immortal?"

"I work for no one." Illyria then attacked the slayer, sending a hard right to Buffy's chin. She watched with satisfaction as Buffy flew back into a tree trunk.

The blonde rolled to her feet with difficulty. "Then who are you?"

"Illyria." The Old One said. "And soon, my name will be one everyone's lips. I will be ruler once more." As she said this, she blocked Buffy's kick, catching the ankle and twisting it painfully. She then shoved it back, sending Buffy toppling.

"What are you?"

"Beyond your comprehension. I am all, and nothing. " Illyria ducked an attempt to punch her, grabbing her by he neck and hoisting her up, cutting off her air supply. "And you are dead for ever touching what I now consider mine."

"And…what's that…exactly?" Buffy gasped for air, struggling to breathe in her death grip.

"Spike." As soon as the name was out of her mouth, she saw Buffy's eyes widen in shock before Illyria coldly snapped her neck. The body fell with a thump. Then, and only then, did a smile grace Illyria's face. Tomorrow, she would let her plan into action.


	8. Things Are Changing

**Title: Unnatural 8/8**

**Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.  
Author: Miz Thang  
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.  
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.  
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.  
Rating: FRM**

**Author's Note:**

1a. This is it, for anyone that cares. The last chapter. I'm not going to guarantee a shipper ending, just to let you know. Hope you had as much fun reading, as I did writing and seeing the reviews. Imzadi, I don't know so much about Lorne. He isn't out of the woods yet. And we find out what Spike does. Thanks for that. I was hoping it was original enough. Believe me, this had not been where I was heading before I started posting and typing. Well, it was, but there wasn't that much sub-plot to it.

_1b. And, from your review of Her Happy Ending: I heard that Joss gave her a last name after being asked by a bunch of-I guess potential book writers-what her last name was. I just took to using it. I think I could write one with Lindsey-I just have to catch up on his character. I've never actively written him before, so I think that'll be a challenge._

2. As I'm trying to write the ending of the story, I keep coming back to this damn author's note. I think there might be a sequel. I can never leave a story a lone. It's kind of sad. But now that I know what I have planned, I really can't leave it like this. Sue me. I don't know what I'll call it. I'll think of something. Probably Unnatural: Return. How does that sound?

**Unnatural**

**Chapter Eight: Things Are Changing**

Her plan had been automatically set into action the moment she ended the life of that blonde, the slayer, Buffy, before she could come to Los Angeles and confuse Spike's feelings. She had then continued on with the day as if it had not been a repeat for her.

As before, Angel and Wesley had confronted her and Spike about the nature of their relationship. She had even smiled when Spike told them to "bugger off." She was in too good a mood, but was not delusional that both Wesley and Angel would let this lie. That was why the next day, she decided to take action.

She had warned them of the consequences of their actions against her, had never let it on that she would let go of her desire to once again be ruler. That was her destiny, and only Spike shared it beside her. Today was their day of reckoning. She had to strike before the news of Buffy reached Los Angeles. Time was of the essence. The world looked new, refreshed, as she stepped off the elevator. She was almost saddened Spike wouldn't be able to witness this, but it was for the better; he was not ready yet. Things were going to change today, for the better-

"Illie!" Harmony exclaimed and the Old One gritted her teeth. The blonde vampire was annoying, a given that was, but Illyria actually saw usefulness in her. She'd have her purpose soon enough. And for that, and that alone, Illyria would spare the half breed's life.

"Where is Wesley?" Illyria asked. She was glad that Spike was still in his apartment, attempting to sleep off the affects of their earlier fornication. Yes, she used sex in order to keep him out of the way, and she would admit it if she had to chance, if she was asked. Even if it would hurt Spike.

"In his office, as always." Harmony replied. She grabbed her purse, something telling her she didn't want to be here in the next hour. "Tell Angel I'm going on break."

Illyria gave her no reply as she went towards the office of the ex-watcher. If anything, he had to go first; he would certainly be the one most successful in making Spike see reason before she could use the bond they shared against him.

"Things are changing, yet you refuse to change with them. You cannot see the greatness coming."

He looked up from his notes, once again having to force any feelings he may have had aside. He then stood, coming around his desk. "Might this be about your 'relationship' with Spike?"

"It might. You're not accepting it. You pretend you are, but you don't. I think it's because I no longer require your guidance. And if I no longer require you, you can no longer torture yourself, or wallow in you self-pity and misery at my existence."

She didn't know why she was making her last conversation with Wesley so intellectual and psycho-analytic. Perhaps she wanted to keep it as a memory. Maybe to preserve some kind of rightness about him. Who he is, was. At one point, she had spent all her hours with him, trying to understand the world he lived in; she was attached, though not in a way that could even compare to what feeling she'd allowed herself for Spike.

_That was why_, she decided.

"Is that what you really think?" Wesley questioned calmly. He's trying to call her bluff, only she wasn't-bluffing, that is. He already knew that it was what she thought; she hadn't yet grasped the real concept of lying and deceit. She didn't care about being caught in the act of something heinous. She didn't seem to care about much except for two things, really; Spike and world domination.

She couldn't dare do it behind his back. She actually held respect for him and made sure that he could see that this was the end of the line. "No." She lashed out, catching him by the throat and shoved him back into his desk. "It is what I know."

He barely had time to react, this all happening in a few seconds. She punched him through the chest, ripping his heart out; she'd done it once before when she retook her place in the world and destroyed the shell's soul, so what would it matter if she did it again?

"One down, three to go." She murmured to herself, staring at Wesley's lifeless body with mild curiosity as the door opened behind her.

"Wesley?" Lorne called out as he entered, stopping short when Illyria turned to face him, revealing her bloodied hand and the heart. "What-"

"Before I changed things, I warned you. The time has come for me to take my rightful place. I will not destroy the world; it's too precious to Spike. I will dominate, in any case." She said, stalking forward, the bodily organ that had been Wesley's heart just moments ago falling from her hand as if it were worthless now.

Lorne held up two hands. "There's no reason for this-"

She watched his body tumble to the ground, the sword she'd picked up lodged in his chest. His red eyes were wide in surprise and pain as he keeled over. "You are wrong. There is every reason for this."

-

Spike woke up, feeling as if his whole world had turned upside down. If he could have things his way, he wouldn't be waking up anytime in the near future. Something else had woken him up. This really bad feeling swirling in the pit of his gut. He also had a feeling as if a dangerous blood lust was being sated, and with the evidence that Illyria was nowhere in his apartment, he came to the conclusion that it was Illyria he was feeling somehow.

His bad feeling had him immediately wake and dressing before he began the very dangerous task of finding away to get to Wolfram and Hart during the day.

-

Panic.

It was all around the building. It was filling every nook, every cranny, sinking into every pore. To the point where there was nothing else, where it was in every breath taken.

Angel ran out of his office, Gunn at his back to find his employees scampering, the saying "every person for themselves" in good use. "Where the hell is Harmony? What's going on?"

There was no one to answer his question. Angel turned to Gunn. "Find Wes, and Lorne."

Gunn nodded, taking off down the hall towards Wesley's office. Things seemed to slow for Angel as Gunn rounded the corner only to fly back into the wall and slide down. As if his worst fears were coming to life, Illyria stalked around the corner dried blood on her hands. He had no doubts anymore; Wesley and Lorne were most likely dead.

He raced forward, attempting to keep Illyria from killing Gunn. At that exact moment, she fixed ice blue eyes on him and waved her clean hand, sending Angel back several feet and through the clear glass, sliding into the desk in his office.

He shook his head, attempting to clean the cobwebs out of the corner of his mind. And then he passed out.

-

Gunn stumbled to his feet and backed away from Illyria. "What's your whole point, Illyria? Doing this? You're just asking to give Spike a reason to hate you."

"No." She denied, taking one step for every third of his. "He will understand my motives."

"How about you do me a favor then and explain what they are? Just to refresh my memory."

Illyria froze and Gunn hurried to get behind his protection that was in the form of Spike. She straightened, giving him a cool eye. "For us." She said, almost a whisper. Louder, she repeated herself. "Everything I did, is for us."

"Did? What did you do?" Spike asked, his voice dangerously low as his mind raced through the possibilities.

"I will show you." She replied.

It hit him hard, sending him staggering, and his mind was open to hers, to her memories. He saw her standing in the kitchen watching hic blood, a daily routine she'd made of it. And then, when she was sure she wouldn't be caught, the drops of her own blood she mixed in. The purposely skin-breaking punches in the training room, only for her to take the blood she spilt-her own version of a mating.

He saw her walking down the stairs, determination and rage in every step as she disappeared through a portal, and he at the balcony with Angel and Buffy. All apprehensive of what would come. Only it wouldn't, because Illyria had gone back in time. And she…

He would've fallen if Gunn hadn't instinctively caught him. "C'mon, Spike. You're the only thing keepin' me alive here."

Spike didn't hear Gunn. He looked up at Illyria but couldn't get the words out. _You killed her? You killed Buffy?_

She looked him in the eye._ Yes._

Gunn was surprised when Spike suddenly shrugged him off and stood tall. "Spike, what-"

He was fast. Spike. He was a black and white blur as he tackled Illyria and they went flying through the air, crashing through three offices. She tossed him off her, rising to her feet as she rose to her own.

"Why are you attacking me?"

Spike shook his head. "You don't get it, Blue. I don't do the, 'my lover killed my friends, woe is me' crap." He smirked. "Nice try, though, really. You expected that showing me that you killed Buffy was going to have me out of commission long enough to off Gunn and Angel." He looked down and than back at her. "But I'm standin' right here, 'bout to face you off. Think you underestimated me."

"Maybe." Illyria admitted. "I won't repeat that mistake."

She shot out, landing a punch to his face. He barely stumbled back, whipping out to kick her in the gut. She doubled over and he kneed her in the face, sending her crashing through the wall into the wall, right in front of Gunn and Angel.

Spike stalked after her, stepping through the hole with a grin. "This is it, ladies and gents. The showdown to end all." He tensed as Illyria rose to her feet.

She ducked, sweep kicking him, and rising in enough time to land a hard punch to his gut. He flew back into the office. She stepped through it. "And you are a worthy opponent."

Spike flipped to his feet, side stepping her attempt to back hand him. He then noticed that they had crashed into Angel's office. He knocked one of the swords off the wall behind his desk, whipping it through the air with deadly accuracy. He raced as Illyria, attempting to slice her in half.

She caught his wrists and flipped him over her. She turned to see him land on Angel's conference table, and it collapsed with his weight. She neared him warily, noticing him to be unconscious. She kneeled before him. Her eyes landed on the sword and she realized that she should kill him, make sure he wouldn't interrupt a second time, but she couldn't get it, reach for it. She was actually in love. It sickened her.

He surprised her, flipping her on to her back and pinning her; he had faked being unconscious. "Always called myself Love's Bitch. No matter what I do, I always fall for the wrong bloody women. Gets pathetic after a while."

Illyria didn't attempt to move him off of her, staring up into equally blue eyes. He was leaning towards her ever so slowly. "What does that make me?"

"Don't really know." His lips then met hers softly, against all comprehension, even with all the chaos going on and Illyria felt that maybe she had won after all. She had used love and she was to be victorious-

An undeniable pain bloomed in her chest and she felt as if every nerve in her body was burning. Spike pulled away, standing, and as she inspected her sudden wound, she realized he'd stabbed her. Never once had anything penetrated her skin. Never before had it happened.

_You also never fell in love or lost half your strength. Though, I have to say, I hope you're on the fast track to hell, bitch._

The shell, she was speaking to Illyria. And Illyria realized that this was what the shell had felt when the Old One had taken over. She was dying, vanishing from existence. She looked up at Spike with wide, innocent eyes as he backed away from her. "Spike?"

"I can't let you." He said, still moving away. She couldn't…she couldn't understand why he was doing it.

"Why…why are you…so far away?" she asked, she blinked attempting to keep her eyes open. And then she began to blink repeatedly, feeling awfully tired. "I need you." She admitted, stretching out a hand, a hand stained with her own blood, and Wesley's, towards him. Urgently, a sense of survival kicking in, she said, "Help me."

"I want to…but I can't let you." He said. "Sorry, love."

She smelled salt. The salt of tears. And because he shed them, obviously over her, she gave up. Her hair started to fade. The lively blue returning to that dull brown that had been Fred's. "I…know. I…could you…hold me?"

There was something intensely wrong with this situation, Spike was aware of that as he respected her request, kneeling by her and pulling her into his arms. She was the forever, strong Illyria. She didn't die. She didn't ask for anything. She didn't need anything. And she didn't fall in love.

_Kiss me good bye, my mate._

And she didn't say that, either.

He did it anyway. He leaned down for one last kiss, because, stupid prat that he was, he'd fallen in love with her. A blue electricity ran through him, and he could hear her telling him that she'd live forever, in him. They were attached forever.

He pulled away in time to she lifeless blue eyes thaw and fade back to brown. And then he let her go. The armor Illyria had prided herself on wearing had faded away, returning to the burgundy dress Fred had died in. This wasn't his girl. Not anymore. She'd been on loan.

A hand touched his shoulder. He didn't even have to turn around. It was Angel. He knew it. Not by sense, not by the vampric bond. But with this all-knowing capability that had him wondering where it came from.

"It's better it ended this way, Spike. I mean…you and Illyria…you two were just…unnatural." Angel said, unaware that every word he spoke drove Spike further away from ever being the same again. "Not that-I don't mean-"

"I know what you mean." Spike cut Angel off, just looking for a way to stop him from speaking at all. "Wouldn't have worked out, got it. Not the first bloody time, is it? After all, she tried to end the world."

He reached forward to close her eyes as Angel spoke, even if Spike's held a warning. "I know that you loved-"

He didn't see the backhand coming, but he definitely felt it. It sent him flying through the body-shaped hole already in the window until his back slammed into the railing. It cracked and creaked, almost tipping over and taking Angel with it.

Angel blinked away the pain and raised his eyes to Spike's. Spike only glared at him angrily, his eyes seeming to crystallize as Fred's did before Illyria took over. "Don't try to tell me how I feel, you tit. You don't know."

Spike stepped through the glass and started down the stairs, passing Gunn without acknowledging his presence and stepping onto the elevator the moment the doors opened. To himself, he whispered, "You'll never know."

_End ._

**Author's Note:**

3. Oh my goodness. It's over. Now, I would sit here and explain what the ending means and what happened between Spike and Illyria, but what would be the point, and where would the fun be, if there's a sequel in mind. I think I like Unnatural: The Return. I think you can expect cameos from Lindsey, Eve, Hamilton, Willow, Faith and Dawn. Well, maybe some of them. I haven't actually decided, this being a spur of the moment decision.

Anyway, review, tell me what you think. About the story, about my maybe-plans. Whatever you feel the need to click that submit a review button for.

Go on, do it. I dare ya.


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